


Thinking Outside The Box

by WeirdAlterEgo



Series: Bruce's Lessons For Inexperienced Young Men [9]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: Anal Sex, Dark Bruce Wayne, Dark Dick Grayson, Drugs, M/M, Objectification, Oral Sex, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Canonical Death, Restraints, Sensory Deprivation, Spitroasting, unbeated hot mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdAlterEgo/pseuds/WeirdAlterEgo
Summary: Tim is.Tim thinks he.Sorry.That's the word he is looking for. He is sorry. He is very sorry, and he really didn't think. He didn't meant to do anything, and he didn't mean to make Bruce angry, but he can't. He can't tell him that. Not now, not like this.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: Bruce's Lessons For Inexperienced Young Men [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952965
Comments: 19
Kudos: 80





	1. Boxed In

**Author's Note:**

> Please please PLEASE **see notes at the bottom of the chapter for more info and possible triggers**.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I started this story in a really rotten mood. It's gonna be really dark. And probably chaptered.

Bruce relishes the sight of the light going out of those innocent eyes. He holds them until they roll up, showing only the whites, as the lids slide down. Until Jason's whole, muscled body goes lax and slides to the floor in a heap. He presses a hand against the glass, yearning to touch; knowing he can't.

Not _yet_.

He selects the first vial with the cocktail that holds the biggest promise, slides it into the glorified diffuser he built lovingly for his second son. He watches as the liquid turns into a lilac smoke and travels up through the transparent air vents leading into Jason's glass cage, observes avidly as it descends over the prone form. He can't help but wet his lips as bulking muscles flex and strain, when Jason, naked and sweating, rises up to fix Bruce in his sights.

Bruce smirks as he observes Jason growing hard. Promising indeed.

The next second Jason is up and plastered against the wall separating them, face contorted in a feral grimace, drool dripping from lips pulled back from gleaming white teeth as he claws at the smooth glass, trying to get to Bruce. Bruce smiles and smooths a hand against the glass over Jason's collar bone, inciting more clawing and growling. Sees a single line of red.

He makes a mental note to keep Jason's nails clipped short from now on.

Then he steps back to the control panel, switches it back to the tranquilizer. He observes as Jason's arms drop, as his eyes glaze over and he begins to sway and then stagger. He feeds the second vial into the system, and watches again as the gas travels through the pipes.

He turns it off almost immediately, hits the button that pumps clean air in as Jason begins to seize, glad to see it stopping as soon as the air is cleared. He makes a note of it. He isn't sure whether it's the pollen strain or the gas, or possibly a mix of the two. He will know for sure when he goes down the line that far and tries every combination.

The next vial produces a somewhat dazed Jason, who falls down on his ass and starts rubbing his strained erection, mellow and needy like a sex kitten. _That_ one Bruce notes and saves for later. Not exactly what he wanted, but it will certainly be of use. He is already dreaming up a lazy afternoons with Jason sitting prettily on his cock, whining for touch.

He shifts as he feels himself stirring. He shifts until his cup cuts painfully into his rising dick. Now is not the time, nor the place.

He cleans the air and tries the next one. Jason starts screaming almost as soon as he pushes the button, curling in on himself and all his muscles flex as if he is in a world of pain. That one also goes on his list. Punishments can and will be doled out when needed.

It takes a while to go down the list and test out all of his concoctions, even though he only prepared twenty vials. No more seizures occur, for which he is glad. Damaging Jason was never his intention.

Lucky number thirteen had been the most promising, producing a rock hard, somewhat dazed and mobile Jason, who only pasted himself against the glass, reaching for Bruce but not in homicidal rage, more like... seeking a body. Bruce notes it too, leaves the cell behind while the air gets refreshed to try #13 with a little bit of #1.

When he turns on the feed to listen to the goings on of Gotham, he smashes the empty vial he prepared.

His hands shake as he deposits the stoppered, full vials before he does something unimaginably dangerous as he listens to Tim...

He knows the boy was going to act out in rebellion. He expected it. Bruce knew the impact of his father's death had on Tim. For Jack died. Bruce relished having more control of Tim. That was all the mindpsace he was willing to spend on that part of the boy's life. But it was foolish, wasn't it? For Tim had almost _killed_ Captain Boomerang.

Bruce begins to stalk the cave in anger. It burns. It _burns_ to know Tim almost did something unforgivable, something that would push him outside of Bruce's reach. But did the boy... did he really mean to go _that far_? Could he have? Was it his intention to escape Bruce? Was he willing to pay such a steep price? Did he perhaps mean to reveal them _all_ to the public? Dick and Bruce too?

Did he mean to reveal... _all_ that they did? What _Bruce_ did?

He shakes his head, combs his fingers through his hair, grabs and pulls until it _hurts_.

He was too gentle. He thought logic would be enough, but clearly it isn't. He has to be _firmer_.

Tim must be _punished_.

***

Tim is.

Tim thinks he.

Sorry.

That's the word he is looking for. He is sorry. He is very sorry, and he really didn't _think_. He didn't meant to do anything, and he didn't mean to make Bruce angry, but he can't. He can't tell him that. Not now, not like this.

He is crying. He had been crying since he woke up. He doesn't know how long ago it was. He wants out. He wants to apologize to Bruce, to tell him how sorry he is and that he doesn't mind the harness or the enema or even the training with Dick and Damian, just please, not the darkness.

***

He traqs Tim after he tells him how disappointed he is in him. Tim is contrary but abashed, uncertain. He does not look sorry enough, and Bruce is all the more angry for it.

He throws the unconscious boy into the batmobile and takes him back to the cave, seething. He is barely lucid enough to send Dick a text calling him to the cave early.

He tranqs the boy again before he undresses him, carelessly throwing his gear on the floor. Bad boys deserve no consideration. _None._ Tim deserves _nothing_.

And Tim deserves everything that's coming to him.

Or on. Or in.

He leaves the unconscious boy lying on the cold, hard floor, naked.

Then he goes on a search and pulls out the Box.

He built it for a woman, back when Dick was still his Robin. It only housed one person, and she chickened out before they could get to the good parts. Good thing Tim can't now, not with the extra restraints Bruce put in. He covers one of the double holes, for it would have no use, makes sure the other two still have their silicone coverings, tests the well-oiled leather of the restraints.

When he is done, he picks up the boy and puts him in. His lax, limp body is easy to maneuver into the perfect position, and easy to prepare. He uses the minimum amount of lube: enough not to cause any damage but not enough to make it an enjoyable entry. Not for Tim.

A ring gag finishes the set before he fastens the belts and bindings, until Tim can't move a millimeter. He tranqs the boy once again before he closes the box, fastening each lock before he stands back up, observing it all. Then he turns around and leaves the box there, proudly displayed in the middle of the cave.

He goes back to Jason, who stares back up at him, lucid, from the furthest corner of the cage.

"You are the fucking monster I never believed you were," is what Jason spits at him with all the hate he seems to have in his hulking body, eyes full of fire and terror, and Bruce is just too tired to care. He punches the button that tranqs this son of his, too.

He is too tired and stressed to sleep, and there is still Tim to _punish_.

Not to mention he still needs to figure out a way to make Jason mobile. They can't include him in activities as he is now, locked up in his glass cage. No, they need...

It takes little enough time to repurpose Jason's headgear into little more than an airtight container around his head with a tube attached from the back. Bruce goes out to find some scraps to build another diffuser right next to the Box, listening to Tim's soft, rhythmical exhalations.

He thinks he might be maniacal, running on fumes. His anger is still burning fresh behind his eyes, that vein near his temple twitching, but Tim. Tim jeopardized them _all_. And _rebelled_ against _Bruce_. This cannot stand.

He is _not_ above testing Jason out on Tim if that's what it takes.

Not tonight.

He fits the mixed vial of a bit of vial #1 and some of #13 into the diffuser, drags an unconscious Jason out. He fixes Jason with his modified helmet, with extra fastenings only Bruce could manipulate to remove, and attaches the tube. As a last act of mercy he lubes up Jason's cock.

While Tim is loose, Jason is bigger than Bruce, around the size of Tim's timeout dildo. Bruce still has to work Tim up to it, even though Tim is regularly plugged. It wouldn't do to have Tim rip before his punishment even really starts.

The loud screeching of Dick's bike momentarily distracts him from rubbing Jason's cock. He stands up to take a better look. Notes he is glad Dick did not bring Damian with him. It probably wouldn't have done either of them any good. Not at this stage anyway.

"Hey B, what happened?" Dick asks as he runs up the stairs from the garage.

"Tim almost killed Captain Boomerang."

Dick shares a look with him. It's part outrage, part horror, part pure, unadulterated terror. But most of it is seething, white-hot rage. Bruce nods.

"Where is he?" Dick asks when he can talk. His voice is grating. Bruce would be worried, but knows Dick can't harm Tim in the box. Not like _that_. Not like that voice promises.

All the same, Bruce smirks with _promise_. "I put him in the Box."

There is an instant switch in Dick's demeanor. Bruce wishes he could have stamped it out of the boy, but it does help them all out, so he foregoes mentioning it to his pupil. This time.

"No shit. _Seriously_?!" Dick's voice sounds like a little kid's, who just got told Santa comes twice this Christmas. (Dick might come more than that.) His eyes go round when they land on the box... and then they swing to Jason. "Uh... should he be out like that? Did you... huh. The helmet's a nice touch."

Bruce smirks. It really is. Jason's own helmet, turned against him in such a way. Bruce does so love poetic justice. He probably learnt it from Alfred.

He goes back to stand next to the diffuser.

"If you want to fuck Tim before I wake Jason up, I suggest you hurry."

Dick leans forward and whistles at Jason's size, eyes going round like saucers. "Yeah, I guess I'd better. Little Wing's been hiding a bazooka in his pants. Timmy's gonna be one happy little bird in there, all curled up with a belly full of cock!"

Bruce doesn't watch as Dick unzips his pants, lubes up his cock and sticks it into the box and up inside Tim, just undoes his belt, removes his cup and pushes inside the other hole, enjoys as Tim's throat spasms around the sudden intrusion.

They find a rhythm, using Tim on both ends. Dick moans as he fucks into the box with abandon, fingers clenched white against the side of the Box. Bruce just enjoys the choking and rippling of the throat around him, the silky heat as it tightens and spasms. They fuck hard and mercilessly into the bound and unconscious body of Tim, until they both find their release inside the boy.

Bruce finishes first. He pulls out of the hole, smirks as he hears the boy wheeze and choke while he does his pants back up. Then he goes to stand next to Jason, watches as Dick's ass pumps against the Box with a punishing rhythm, right until he stops, unloading into Tim's ass.

As soon as Dick pulls out of Tim Bruce drags the loose body of Jason and drapes it over the box. He works a hand between them until he can reach Jason's cock. He pulls Jason back enough he can maneuver his cock, point it down against the hole, feeding the tip of his oiled erection into Tim's sloppy passage. Bruce enjoys the resistance until it finally pops in, grinning darkly at the choked-off groan.

"The baby bird's waking up!" Dick stage whispers as Bruce hits the button, waking Jason up with the untested mixture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has Tim trapped in a box. He did NOT consent. Tim is not happy.  
>  Jason is kidnapped and gassed into compliance. He is raped and is forced to rape Tim in turn. Jason is not happy.**
> 
> I can't believe I wrote infuser instead of diffuser and nobody bashed me over the head for it with a cluebat! Or... would that be a Batcluebat?  
> I think I edited them all, but boy, do I feel like a dummy.
> 
> (But yeah I can justify that by running out of tea and being too lazy to make a new cuppa.)


	2. Between a cock and a hard place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is not having a fun time in there.  
> (Then again... it wouldn't be a punishment otherwise, right?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter count went up. Sorry, but I can only do short amounts, it seems. Tim's PoV will come next. (I think 3 will be the max chapter count but... who knows.)  
> But! If you want more Box, just say so. I could be persuaded... And I do love reviews. :)
> 
> I'm probably in a dark enough mindpsace to write some more. I got some lovely ideas and suggestions from friends...
> 
> Oh btw if I messed up and there are too many typos, pls feel free to point them out so I can correct them!
> 
> I don't bite, you can ask me stuff if you want. :)  
> Or if you want a discussion or anything really. I'm sort of bored out of my skull thanks to the lockdown.

Tim's scream, when Jason thrusts inside him, echoes throughout the cave, upsetting the bats overhead. They drop down in a swarm to fly around their heads, chittering wildly while Bruce and Dick watch entranced as Jason pounds into the Box with a force strong enough to dislodge it. Bruce watches with raised eyebrows as it inches forward slowly and makes a note to add some extra weights on the bottom for the next time.

When they take Tim out.

He knows rationally that the boy will need rest and care. He knows they will have to give him medical attention eventually, or risk tearing and worse things they won't be able to explain. But that's still hours away.

For now they enjoy the boy's wordless wails and screams as he is pounded into mercilessly by a gassed Red Hood. Who, Bruce in his white-hot, seething rage, forgot to restrain. He can't believe how awfully _sloppy_ that was. _Imbecile_.

He leaves Dick to fetch the chains, and motions his eldest to help him out. The shackles go onto his ankles without a hitch. It is much harder to fit them around his wrists though, as they are plastered against the thick wood of the Box, muscles straining with all the force Jason's hulking body can exert.

Bruce ends up peeling the arm closest to him off the Box, dodging an annoyed (enraged) swat as he clips the cuff closed around it and steps back fast. The Red Hood, like Bruce moving out of his reach made him a non-threat, goes back to fucking the Box, grunting with each thrust. Bruce watches as Dick clips the other cuff on in a similar fashion and dances out of Jason's reach, similarly escaping the man's ire.

And then they watch as Jason ruts into the Box, naked, his gleaming muscles bunching up on full display while Tim's wails and screams slowly die down to broken little yelps and sobs. It's a breathtaking sight, all that raw energy has Bruce stirring sooner than expected. A cursory glance reveals Dick is also ready to go, straining out of his half done pants.

He gives Dick a pack of wet wipes and decides to wait. He wants to stretch things out for as long as possible, leaving Tim stuffed and scared of things yet to come until they have to remove him or risk damage to the boy's health. He watches Jason's muscled buttocks as his rhythm speeds up as it clenches, muscles straining as he finishes up inside Tim.

The broken mewl from the boy as Jason pulls out carelessly is music to Bruce's ears. He questions his own judgement for not putting the boy in there sooner. He shouldn't have given Tim so much freedom. As soon as Jake Drake was in the ground Bruce should have stuffed that boy inside the Box. (Instead of fucking him in his own bed and telling Tim he would always have a place in the manor, with Bruce. He should have shown Tim his place instead of... Well. There is no point crying over spilt milk. And Tim _did_ end up in the Box, eventually.)

His fist clenches down on the chain he uses to pull Jason back and into a waiting chair as he switches the diffuser to vial #13 to mellow him out. He should have been harder with Tim. He knows that now, but from now on, he won't hold back. He has Jason to help him with that. And with luck, Tim will be Jason's undoing.

Bruce has not forgotten the pimp. He has not forgotten how Jason directly (or indirectly) caused the death of a murderer, who drove a scared and hounded woman to suicide. He has no doubt that Jason would do anything if Tim (and possibly Damian) were spared punishment, would even offer himself in their place. Offering his own body up on a silver plate.

Until Bruce broke him, too.

Bruce watches idly as Dick pushes up through the hole into Tim's mouth. He knows Dick would never intentionally harm Tim physically, but he still watches as the young man fucks into the hole. He adds a round gag with teeth guards to the list. Minimizing the chance for damage is the best option he has until their rage bubbles out and simmers down to a lower setting.

While Dick is grunting frantically, nearing climax, he sticks two fingers up Tim's overworked hole, feeling around, fucking into the sloppy orifice, enjoying Dick's groan before he pulls out. There is no blood on his fingers, and for that he is thankful. He wipes his hands off and looks back at Jason. His second son is hard and straining, squirming in his chair.

Bruce entertains the idea of letting Jason use Tim's mouth hole, but amends that it shouldn't happen before the teeth guard happens. Knocked-out teeth could raise a few eyebrows. And Tim might babble.

He guides Jason to Tim's other hole, waiting until Dick is finished and pulls out, wiping his glistening cock down with a happy grunt. Jason requires help this time around as well. Bruce is not yet confident enough to experiment whether Jason would push in, or even find a hole hopped up on any of the available gasses Bruce has in his stash. He doesn't mind helping out though.

First though...

He lubes up two fingers and starts working on Jason's hole. He has fucked Tim countless of times, but not Jason. And he has worked up quite an appetite for his second son's muscled ass.

He grins as Jason moans, the helmet echoing without his filter. It's a lovely sound, and he glides another finger over the boy's prostate to hear more. It's lovely. He hopes they can break Jason and take off the blasted helmet to hear him clearer, soon.

He lines Jason up into Tim's dripping hole as he nudges against Jason's entrance and his thrust propels his second son forward and into his third. For a moment he wishes Damian was here and he could be stuffed under Tim, mouth around his broken Robin's erection, bound immobile with Tim's cock so far down his throat he wouldn't even need to swallow whenever Tim came down it.

He starts pumping his hips into Jason as he thinks of the logistics. Damian would have to lie on the ground, half of his body sticking out, cock freely out in the open for anybody willing to jerk it, hole free for the taking. Bruce thinks of all the fun toys Dick could think up to stuff inside his littlest son so he would be docile around Tim's cock, for it wouldn't be Damian's punishment, just his training.

He stops thrusting for a minute, leaning his forehead against Jason's back, reining his thoughts back in. There's time enough to build more boxes, more toys. But he knows he should be focusing on Jason instead, of Tim getting fucked by proxy.

He kisses the back of Jason's neck, biting into the skin just below his helmet, lining his corded neck muscles with little red bites that will turn into purple bruises and remain for days, marking Jason as _his_. He grabs a cheek in each hand and fucks into his son harder. He knows Jason can take it, and so can Tim. He lays his head against Jason's shoulder and pumps into the warm, silken heat of his prodigal son while they both punish his brightest, who spat into all of their faces and trampled their goodwill.

He looks over at Dick, who smiles back at him, indulgent. Bruce knows they both loved Jason with a fierce passion, for he was their first (love, yearning, unfulfilled wish) and Dick doesn't begrudge him this moment. No, he will be fucking Jason soon, cuddling his "big" brother as they pound into their little brother as a joint force.

He grabs hold of Jason's hips and pounds into his son until he comes deep inside that tight hole, Jason frozen inside Tim until Bruce lets up and withdraws, staring hungrily as he watches his come dribble out of Jason's winking passage.

He lets Dick take his place, wasting no time to mount Jason, who takes it with a soft grunt and a hard thrust inside Tim, who starts wailing and sobbing again. Bruce watches as Dick cuddles Jason and grinds inside him, crooning, just as he predicted.

He leaves them to it while he goes to root through his toy chest, pulling out vibrators and toys to ensure Tim is never bored locked inside the Box.


	3. The trojan box

Tim feels guilty now, all the time.

Since this... training started, he has been feeling guilty that he is going behind his father's back, that he is not performing as good as Bruce thought he would, that he secretly hates it all. But since his father died, he has been feeling guilty and the could do _nothing_ to save him. That it was Tim, who signed Jake Drake's death warrant. For being Robin. And he doesn't even _like_ being Robin anymore.

But since the death of his father he had been feeling untethered, lost, and angry. He's angry with Bruce for changing the landscape of their partnership with his... "training". He hates Bruce for making it something else, something sinister. He is angry with Dick for pretending, for not being who he really was, for making Damian...

He dislikes Damian for everything, but not hate. That boy is an unfortunate byproduct of his nearest and dearest, and even now Tim feels sorry for him. For being related to Bruce _and_ Ra's al Ghul both.

And he hates Captain Boomerang for killing his only real family, who treated Tim with something other than... He shudders whenever the thinks of the Manor now. He can't stop it. It's fear and revulsion and disgust and terror all mixed into a small but insidious thing that sinks its claws into Tim's skin and bones and everything in between and jerks him around or freezes him whenever Bruce just _looks_ at him.

He contacted Barbara, before. Before he set the trap for Captain Boomerang tonight. He told her _things_. Not all of what has been happening, for Tim knows he was complicit. He let it all happen, or Bruce... and Dick... wouldn't have gotten so far under his skin. But he did. And Tim told Barbara enough, so she could go looking, digging into the files on the batcomputer and security feeds, for Tim is certain at least some things would be caught there.

He doesn't know yet, what they should do, for how do you bring Bruce down without getting the whole of GCPD on your collective asses, but he is sure they can work something out. Hopefully soon. For every time he is their grasp, Tim feels himself, the part of himself that has free agency, shrinking further and further down with every session.

For Bruce is _good_. And Tim has to be better if he wants to come out of this as himself on the other side.

And this is why he has to let go of Captain Boomerang and let him roam free. If Tim kills him tonight, Bruce would know, and his anger would rain down on Tim until Tim was gone. Until he was nothing more than an empty, living and breathing doll. A live sex toy.

He shivers in revulsion, only to freeze in pure terror when he hears a whoosh of displaced air, a soft scrape of boots on concrete.

"Tim. What have you done?!"

_No._

Please, please god _no._

Not _now._

***

He wakes up with a pressure in his head reminiscent of being tranqed, and his world is shaking. It's dark and humid wherever he is. He tries to move but can't as he feels restraints biting into his skin, and there is...

He is entered by something. It's not a gentle, careful intrusion, but it is warm. It's a cock. His ass is getting fucked, and there's... something in his mouth. It's a ring, keeping it open, as he experimentally sticks his tongue out before it's pushed back by something that's stuck inside wherever he is, and he has a cock in his mouth, down his throat that fucks into him without care or finesse.

He recognizes the shape almost immediately, for he has been pulled onto it so many times it is ingrained in his bones.

That means he is in the cave. He failed. He attracted their ire anyway, or perhaps they were monitoring him from the start. He just hopes Babs can make it out of Gotham alive, with as many of their innocent people as she can.

Maybe if Tim survives he could escape and join them.

Until then, he has to bear it.

He closes his eyes and tries to find his equilibrium as he is getting fucked from both sides. Bruce's thick cock is rubbing his throat raw while the one in his ass unrelentingly pushes Tim forward onto it. He chokes before he can stop himself, has to rein his gag reflex back in for he cannot pull back.

He chokes again, and they don't care. The fucking goes on. The cocks in him find a rhythm, and Tim is lulled into routine until Bruce comes down his throat.

Tim chokes again, for he cannot swallow that fast, wheezes and coughs as he is still getting pummeled from behind. His lungs are constricted by the bindings and the crouch he is in, but he manages to not suffocate, and suffers through his violation until the other person (probably Dick) comes up his ass and withdraws as well.

He tries to regain his composure, certain that he will need it soon, when something thuds on... sounds like he is in something wooden. He hopes it means he is being freed, but doesn't dare to count on it.

The next moment he feels something against his ass. It's big. He tries going lax, but it doesn't help. It's still too big. For the first time he feels pure, bone-chilling terror.

What if Bruce means to kill him?

What if they will fuck him, fuck him with bigger and bigger things until he rips and ruptures and bleeds out, or perhaps they will wait until infection sets in and Tim just dies in there? What if it's a coffin?!

He screams in pain and unadulterated fear as he is breached by the _thing_. But he is not given a single second to adapt. He is fucked fast and without mercy. He knows he is still screaming, but can't stop himself. He feels stretched tight over the thing, past his breaking point, and he can't rein himself back in.

The thing... the cock hammers inside him as he is fucked by someone he doesn't know. _He is being fucked by someone he doesn't know_. How many people will they let him get fucked by, his scared mind warbles. And where is he?? Could he be back in the warehouse with "Matches" letting people try out his "merchandise", lining up faceless men to fuck Tim until he dies?!

He tries to use the momentum of the trusts to get his head down enough to get a glimpse through the mouth hole. It's not easy. The feeling of fullness is overwhelming and he can barely breathe enough to keep himself from passing out. Each thrust punches the air out of his compressed lungs and he is extremely glad there is no dick in his mouth to choke him.

Especially as he feels himself come, tightening down around the massive cock impaling him. He hasn't registered it before, but now he feels that there is something on and around his dick, can feel it as he spurts into it as he is fucked mercilessly through the aftershocks, until he is empty. But the brutal fucking still goes on, makes him sob as his abused prostate is rubbed by the pole that's stuffed up inside him.

He tries moving down to see through the mouth-hole again. After what feels like minutes he can finally see more than grey, and he has never been so glad to see the railing of the batcave with the knick-knacks Bruce has collected from villains and past cases. He is still in the cave. That would mean they can't get many people inside without revealing their secret. Right?

Tim can't imagine they would be willing to kill people just for a revenge fuck. Not Bruce. But he didn't know Bruce all that well, after all, did he? Not the real Bruce, or Dick. They might be willing to kill Tim, and Tim didn't _think_.

The man fucking him brutally speeds up, Tim can feel as the thing he is in moves and shakes before he is filled. The cock is yanked out and Tim mewls at the discomfort. More like the feeling as if they are trying to pull his insides out through his ass.

When it's out, and nothing comes, he sighs in relief.

And then a cock pushes through the mouth hole and slips into his mouth, unhindered. His throat is plundered mercilessly as something thin slides up his ass, moves around and is pulled back out. But nothing comes, just the cock fucking in and out of his mouth.

When it empties down Tim's throat it is pulled out, and Tim is left open and empty, choking on come. He feels tears, semen and saliva dribbling down his face, wishes he could wipe it all off. He feels disgusted and disgusting, but more than that, he is afraid of what it is yet to come.

He gets to rest for a few minutes before he is entered again by the unknown person's monster cock. It's a tight fit, even with all the lube and semen that coats his insides. The speed and rhythm are different, too. It's almost languid as it pumps into Tim, stuttering and off-kilter, like it is...

Tim thinks the person fucking him is also getting fucked by one of _them_. Maybe they are indoctrinating his replacement, he thinks apathetically, for the chance of they killing him after has increased again. He feels himself coming again, unbidden and he thinks maybe he should be glad Barbara can take as many of the others to safety as she can.

He wouldn't die in vain.

At least he saved the girls. He can accept his fate.

The unknown person comes deep inside Tim and then withdraws, and Tim is left empty again. He tries to find his equilibrium, get ready for anything.

But it's simply impossible to get ready for what's coming.

***

Bruce fits the vibrating version of Tim's timeout dildo against the hole and shoves it up inside Tim with a single push, relishing the grunt coming from the other end of the box. He thinks it might even be larger than Jason, and definitely longer. He will have to measure them both later.

For now he wipes his hands clear of lube to crank it up to medium setting and uses the additional fastenings on the sides of the holes to lock it in place. Then he walks around the the Box to the other hole and offers the nipple of a baby bottle through the hole, squeezing the body until it dribbles watered-down Gatorade into Tim's open mouth. He hears no choking, so he squeezes until his hand gets tired. Then he removes the bottle and slides a rubber dildo through Tim's mouthole, and secures that one in as well.

He goes back to stand next to Dick and Jason, wishing the box had a glass side, so the could see Tim struggle and squirm and _take it_.

"Can we use him again?" Dick asks idly.

Bruce checks his watch. They still have about 3 hours before Tim has to be taken out for health reasons.

"You can. Just pull out the dildo or the vibrator, I don't care as long as you stuff him back up when you're done."

***

Tim isn't sure how many intrusions it makes when another vibrator is pushed up inside him. There is someone fucking his mouth again, cockhead rubbing on his tongue in shallow thrusts before they shove it down his throat again, rubbing it raw. He he feels something else being pushed in alongside the two thin vibrators buzzing at different speeds in his anus. He feels as his hole stretches out as it pops past his sphincter and pulls it in, before another small round... bead is forced in. He is getting stuffed with anal beads. He can't even begin to imagine how stretched his asshole could be at this point, and he doesn't care. It doesn't matter.

He is filled at their whim. They fill him with cocks, with toys, with fingers. And he can't do anything but _take it_.

They pop in more beads. His asshole sucks them in. The vibrators buzz against his prostate. He comes into the tube around his cock. The dick fucking his mouth starts spraying come down his throat. He swallows it. The dicks is pulled out, a dildo is pushed in in its place.

He is nothing but a receptacle.

Come is dribbling down and out of his ass. His belly is swimming in it. His throat is raw and coated in semen, and so is his face as it dribbles out of his forced-open mouth, joined with saliva and his tears.

The dildo is pulled out and he is fed another cock. Bruce's cock. It doesn't move, not for a long time. Not while Tim's ass is being played with. The beads are pulled out and pushed back. Another sets of beads are pushed in, and he feels full. Too full. He chokes around Bruce, and the man starts fucking him languidly, until he speeds up and his thrusts rock the wooden contraption, until Tim's teeth rattle with it.

The beads are yanked out along with the vibrators. He screams. A cock is shoved up his ass. It's the big one again, pumping hard into Tim. He feels like an accordion as they use him.

And he is afraid.

He is terrified.

He doesn't want to die like this. Fucked to death in the dark.

He is sorry he did _anything_.

He longs to go back to before. It was _better_ before. He should have accepted Bruce's goodwill, when he was kind, fucking Tim sweetly in his bed. In his study. On his desk. When Bruce was kind.

Bruce is not kind now and Tim can't take it.

He wants to tell Bruce how sorry he is, but his mouth is full. His ass his full.

 _He can't_.

***

Bruce feels the moment Tim faints. The suction around his cock changes, the throat goes lax. He checks the time. It's just about time to take him out anyway.

He speeds up until he comes down the unconscious boy's throat and pulls out.

Dick is almost at the brink, he thinks. They can't tell with Jason, who is fucking into Tim's ass like a machine, but that can be helped. He sits down and waits until his boys are both done with Tim.

It only takes a few minutes before Jason flops over the Box, spent, and then Dick is emptying himself into his brother like a good boy. Soon they won't need boxes or threats to include the other two, Bruce thinks, and smiles.

They drag Jason back to the chair, shackling him down and venting the air clean while Bruce unlocks the Box.

Tim is absolutely filthy in there, swimming in semen. Bruce smooths his wet hair back, proud. He unlocks the straps and pulls the boy's cock out of the tube, pulling the lax body out and offering it to Dick.

"Let's wash down the boys."

They tranq Jason for that, so they can remove the shackles and the helmet. It is inconvenient, but Bruce has not yet worked out the technology to better manipulate him, and hopes he could induce a mind break or even a submission under threat instead.

They drag the boys into the communal bathroom, giving them both a quick rub down before Dick removes the showerhead from the shower hose and pushes it up an unresisting, unresponsive Tim while Bruce holds him up, filling him up and emptying his bowels until the water runs clear. They repeat the process with Jason, this time more careful, since his body is not yet used for this kind of play.

But soon he will be, Bruce thinks as he smooths a hand down Jason's gently rounding belly before Dick pulls the hose out. Bruce can barely wait till they have Jason stuffed full, crying and begging, for as much as he loves a good, obedient boy, he loves breaking them even more.

***

They put Jason back into his cell while still out of it. Bruce bends down to kiss the crown of his head, still marveling at having his devil boy back, rejoining the flock. Tim they deposit a few cells down from Jason. This cell has a the bed, and they lay Tim down naked, face down, before Bruce spreads his legs to take a look at his angry red, well-used hole.

It's winking at them, still loose from the earlier activities, and Bruce is so tempted to try and fit his whole fist inside...

But now is not the time. He pulls out the vial of Ivy's ointment and applies a generous portion inside Tim's abused hole with his fingers. He tries to reach as far as he can, uses a long q-tip to do the rest, wishes he could stuff something else up into Tim, but the boy needs to heal, or they run the risk of damage requiring a professional.

"Do you have more of this?" Dick asks him as he observes Bruce's ministrations.

"I can make more if needed."

"How about making a suppository then?"

His eyebrows go up at that one. How hasn't he thought of that? When Tim is awake when he administers it, he will be squirming embarrassed, and having to wear a pad not to dribble. It's a delicious idea.

"That's a good idea, thank you," is what he tells Dick. It wouldn't do good to inflate his ego.

He snaps off his glove and stands up, dropping a blanket over Tim. There is bottles of water, energy drinks and a few packs of granola bars waiting for him in the corner.

"We'll check back on him after he has rested. His punishment is far from over."

Dick follows him out.

"I should get back to Damian. I left him bound on a toy. I'd be surprised if he hadn't fucked himself out yet."

Bruce nods distractedly as he pulls up plans for a new box with a pane of glass, and a fuck machine to keep Tim entertained in there. "Of course. Put that boy to bed."

Dick chuckles. "Oh I will. Could I get some of that ointment by the way?"

In reply Bruce hands him a full bottle, giving him a look. "You should bring the boy tomorrow night. I think he might be _useful_."

Dick smirks. "Sure thing, B."

He waves and turns around, leaving Bruce alone in the cave with the empty box and the discarded toys.

Bruce sighs. He turns around and goes up the stairs. He needs a few hours of sleep, and if Alfred refuses to clean up the mess, he can always just do it tomorrow, or make Tim do it.

He smiles as he imagines his brightest scrubbing out the Box to mint condition, naked and scared out of his wits before Bruce stuffs him back again for another round of fucking.

Bruce does so love to have a full roost.


End file.
